


The Road to Mandalay

by cofax



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Moebius - Freeform, teamfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were SG-1; they'd get by.</p><p>"Moebius" tag, written for the SG-1 Team Ficathon in 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Mandalay

_The dawn comes up like thunder out of China 'cross the bay..._

It annoyed him, that he couldn't remember the rest of the poem. "Da-da-dum, da-dum, da-dum-dum..."

Coming up like thunder, though: yeah. That it was. The sun was climbing up and over the horizon like a red bear over the crest of a hill, moving swift and angry. Moving too fast, Jack thought, as if going back in time had sped things up.

That was what it felt like. Shouldn't the past move more slowly? He remembered when he was a kid, summers lasted for decades. But these past four months, between deciding to revolt and the allotted day, had skipped past him and were gone while Jack was still trying to figure out how to walk in a skirt.

"What are you singing, O'Neill?"

Jack glanced at Teal'c, who crouched next to the goat inside the small pen, milking it efficiently into a clay pot. The pot didn't have any cracks, so it was probably one of Jack's. Daniel's rarely survived firing, Carter's were always lopsided, and Teal'c had said, darkly, that a warrior didn't throw pots. They did, however, milk goats, apparently.

"Nothing. A poem I can't remember," Jack said. Teal'c nodded, not looking away from the goat. Jack poked at the small fire in the brick stove, stirring it to life, and then looked over his shoulder at the path down to the river.

There they were: Carter and Daniel, lugging goatskins of water suspended on yokes over their shoulders. Jack relaxed minutely, snorting as Carter swung her load around, threatening Daniel with thirty pounds of river water. Trust Carter to make a game of the labor. Might be the last time she had to do it, he thought, and then shrugged the thought away.

It was hot already; it hadn't really cooled overnight, and they were all wearing the bare minimum required for decency. Less than decency, in some instances: Jack had seen far more of Carter in the last year than he'd seen in the preceding eight, even when they'd shared a locker room and spent two nights out of five in cramped quarters offworld. They'd all adjusted, eventually; Carter had once tried to joke about her lack of tan lines, and then just sighed when the other three stared at her blankly.

There was an outraged howl: Daniel had dropped one of his goatskins, and was flinging his arms in the air as Carter trotted up the path, waterskins swinging dangerously. She smiled brightly at Jack before upending one skin into the big pot outside the door, and hanging the other on a hook on the wall.

She had time to pour a dipper of water over her head and wash the sweat off her face before Daniel stomped into the yard, yoke over one shoulder and the other hand swinging a wet, but empty, waterskin.

"Problem, Daniel?" asked Jack.

"Nope," said Daniel, with a glare at Carter. He hung up his skin and leaned his yoke against the wall. "Not a problem, unless you count Sam _tripping_ me--"

He made a sudden lunge for her, but she squeaked and hopped over the fence into the pen, taking refuge behind the goat. Teal'c raised an eyebrow and kept on with his milking.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Daniel, really!" Carter tried not to grin, Jack could tell, but the smile just kept slipping out, the same way her tunic kept sliding down her shoulder.

"Yeah, right," Daniel insisted. "You just _happened_ to hook your foot around my ankle at just the right time--"

"Oh, is that what that was?" said Jack, giving the fire one last poke. "Figured it was some new kind of interpretive dance. You know," he waved his hand suggestively, "Penguin Archaeologist, or something."

Carter had had her mouth open to say something: she closed it. Daniel and Teal'c both turned to stare at Jack, heads cocked at an identical angle.

"What?"

Daniel closed his eyes and opened them again. "_Penguin_ archaeologist?"

Jack loved it when Daniel's eyebrows did that bouncy thing and his face screwed up like a twelve-year-old's. It was even better if Jack managed to fuck with Carter and Teal'c's heads at the same time.

"Well, you know," Jack said, "you were doing a lot of ... flapping." He stuck his hands into his armpits and moved his elbows up and down to illustrate. He decided not to mention the misplaced air of dignity; Daniel might take it badly.

Carter choked. Teal'c must have done something, because the goat gave an outraged bleat and kicked over the pot, spreading breakfast all over the dusty ground.

"Flapping. Like a penguin." Daniel was still staring at Jack.

The goat bleated again, struggling against Teal'c's hand on the collar. He let it go, and turned to watch as it bounced, disgruntled, across the pen and began nibbling on Carter's skirt.

"A penguin in Egypt," amended Carter, always helpful. She didn't seem to notice what the goat was doing.

Jack grinned at them all indistinguishably. Daniel's mouth twitched, and then he snorted, and then of course it was all over. Carter laughed so hard she had to sit down, Teal'c slipped in the mud where the goat's milk had spilled, and Daniel sank onto the bench next to Jack, snickering helplessly. Jack slung an arm over Daniel's shoulders, despite the sweat.

The sun was up, the day was upon them. They were SG-1: they'd get by.

  
END  



End file.
